


stay with me

by gigglyjaehyun



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, There's a bit of swearing, it's new year's eve oooooh, wow i've never written clemmings before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1691111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigglyjaehyun/pseuds/gigglyjaehyun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Luke have one night together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stay with me

**Author's Note:**

> Title based off the song 'stay with me' by you me at six.  
> Also, I know it's definitely the wrong time of the year to be posting something set in the winter, but oh well  
> Basically, I gave in and wrote clemmings

Luke pushes his way through the heavy mass of people until finally he’s made his way out onto the balcony, sliding the glass door shut behind him. It’s surprisingly quiet out here; he was at least expecting to see someone craned over the edge of the railing throwing up. Every party has that one person – sometimes two – that consumes too much alcohol and ends up spending the rest of their night trying not to get a concussion.

But there’s no one here this time, and Luke likes that. The air is sharp and cold against his bare arms and the twinkling lights of the city pierce the night sky like needles. The stars up above aren’t visible, clouded in an orange haze beneath the light pollution, and the tiny white squares of light pouring out from the office buildings seem to make up for that. The city is weirdly silent – most likely because everyone’s spending their New Year’s inside, close to their friends and family. Something Luke can only dream of having.

The balcony is wide and dark, decorated with toothpick-like chairs and round tables. It’s on the second-story, just barely above the streets below them, and the layout of the city seems like a maze, spreading out from the balcony. It feels like being in the middle of a clock, watching everything happen around you. Tall buildings loom darkly above in a way that should be threatening but actually provides a feeling of protection. The balcony is faintly lit up from the multi-colored Christmas lights roped on the railings, leaving everything else hidden in the shadows. Which is good for Luke, because he doesn’t want to be seen.

Luke isn’t even sure why he’s here in the first place. He got the invite from Calum and he somehow showed up without realizing it. He barely talks to Calum anymore. He barely talks to anyone anymore.

He falls to the ground next to the door and drops his head back against the red brick wall, taking in a sharp breath. He can hear the bright chatter of people from inside and the music pulsing through the walls, and he thinks to himself, _I should be a part of that_.

But he’s not a part of that. There are five minutes left in the year and he should be getting ready to kiss someone as soon as the clock strikes midnight, but he’s not doing that. Instead, he lets the quietness of the bitter air soak into him, clearing his thoughts for him.

For just a second, he considers getting out a cigarette. Sometimes that helps when he needs to clear his mind, and the fact of the matter is that he’s had a rough two weeks. Possibly the worst way to end a year.

He’s about to get out that cigarette when suddenly the door slides back open and the music is suddenly loud again. It’s a painful reminder of how happy everyone is when he’s not there, and he tries not to feel guilty about that.

The stranger slides the door shut, muffling the music once again, and notices Luke sitting on the ground, as lonely as a person could be. He falls to the ground next to Luke, half of his face being illuminated with the specks of different colored lights.

“Aren’t you the life of the party?” the stranger teases. “Secluding yourself out here all alone. Someone’s got the holiday spirit.”

Luke’s breath catches in his throat when he recognizes the voice. “Michael?”

Luke can feel Michael tensing up, obviously not recognizing Luke until he spoke up. “Holy shit,” Michael breathes out. “Oh my god, Luke. I didn’t know that was you. What are you doing here?”

“Being the life of the party,” Luke says sarcastically. “Obviously.”

Luke can feel his face growing warm at the interaction. He hasn’t spoken to Michael in over two years and it feels, for lack of a better word, _weird_. Luke feels like he should apologize or something. But he doesn’t know what for. For not keeping in touch like he promised to, perhaps. Or maybe for ending their relationship on such a bad note.

He tries to suppress the memories from two years ago that are suddenly seeping into his thoughts, but he fails. Luke had spent all of the past two years trying to bury any recollections he had of Michael, and they’re suddenly all springing back to life. He remembers fucking _everything_ – the gentle touches, the sweet words exchanged, the secrets poured out.

The worst part is that he remembers the last thing Michael said before leaving him: “Maybe one day we’ll see each other again and we’ll be different people. Maybe one day things will work out between us.”

Luke never really thought about the meaning of those words, how maybe Michael was right. They were young and stupid; high school relationships never last, and they should’ve known that.

“It’s fucking cold out here,” Michael notes. “Why are you out here when the Jack Daniels is inside?”

Luke quietly scoffs. “It’s gross in there,” Luke answers, gesturing to the people inside. “I’ve seen some pretty unholy things happening for the past three hours and I think I just needed a break.” Luke pauses. “Or maybe I’m just waiting.”

“Waiting?” Michael repeats. “For what?”

“For midnight,” Luke says, rolling his eyes and smiling a little bit. Fuck, he doesn’t want to smile. He’s supposed to feel shitty, and he was doing a good job at it, too.

“Yeah?” Michael’s voice sounds a little broken and Luke’s not sure why. He looks away from Luke, but remains where he’s seated next to him, their shoulders subconsciously touching each other’s. “What were you going to do at midnight? Sulk outside by yourself?”

“Yes,” Luke replies. “And maybe I was going to think about how shitty this year was.”

There’s a short stretch of silence between them until Michael speaks up again, “Luke, are you alright?” He lifts his hands up and quickly rubs them together to keep himself warm. “Like, not in a rude way. But, how are you doing?”

“Pretty bad, honestly.” Luke intends to say it lightly, like he knows it’s true, but it comes out strangled and confused and he can feel the tears brimming in his eyes. “Mikey, would you believe me if I told you that I fucked up the last two years of my life so much that there’s probably nothing left for me anymore?”

“Shut up, Luke. I know that’s not true,” Michael says, voice wavering. Luke doesn’t say anything else because he’s not sure if he can. He feels on the verge of breaking down and he fears that if they talk about it anymore then he probably will.

“Are you ready for midnight?” Luke asks.

“I don’t have anyone to kiss, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Luke frowns. “You could probably go in there and have half those girls clinging to you in ten seconds if you said that.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out mocking or rude, but it does. And maybe it’s because Luke feels a bit downgraded by Michael; not because of what Michael’s done tonight, but because of the senseless things that happened years ago. It wasn’t really Michael’s fault, he knows, but he can’t help but feel victimized.

Michael snorts. “I don’t want to kiss them,” he says.

“So what are you gonna do at midnight, then?”

“I dunno.” Michael crosses his arms and sits up a bit. “Maybe I’ll join you. We can be lonely together.”

They sit there in comfortable silence for a while and Michael plays with the string on his hoodie while Luke focuses on the twinkling city lights around them. Every light has a story behind it, he realizes. There’s a person – maybe two – behind every white light. He thinks that’s weird, how there are billions of people on the planet right now and all of them are doing something at this exact second. Some people are having the time of their lives and some people are pushing through mental barriers, blocking them off from everyone else. He figures he falls into the latter category.

“You could kiss me,” Luke suggests quietly, so quietly that Michael almost doesn’t hear him at first.

“What was that?”

Luke shrugs nonchalantly, feeling Michael’s shoulder rub against his. “I’m not kissing anyone at midnight. You’re not kissing anyone at midnight. And, like, I guess I could do with some good luck right now.”

Michael laughs a little. “You want me to – no, I’m not kissing you,” Michael says.

“Okay.”

“I mean, unless you _really, really_ want me to.”

Luke shrugs as if it’s no big deal. But he _really, really_ wants Michael to kiss him. He’s just not going to say it out loud.

“Okay, fine,” Michael finally says. “It’s not like we haven’t kissed before, so, fuck it.”

The air’s cold enough that Luke can feel the tips of his fingers going numb, but he’s fine with it. He thinks the iciness is refreshing, like the world is a giant scoop of mint chocolate-chip ice-cream. A small smile spreads onto his face; it’s been months since he’s genuinely smiled, he realizes. As fucked up as it sounds, it’s the truth.

“Did I say something wrong?” Michael asks, noticing Luke’s smile.

“No – I was just thinking. Like, what if the world is just a giant scoop of ice-cream?”

“Holy shit, how much did you drink?” Michael asks teasingly.

Luke rolls his head over to look at Michael, so that he can see him roll his eyes, but he only laughs. “I didn’t,” Luke insists.

“Really?” Michael says, appalled. “So you’re completely sober, and you’re asking me if the world is made of ice-cream.” The two of them laugh, realizing just how ridiculous it sounds, and then they’re cut off by a muffled chanting sound coming from inside. Right. Twenty seconds.

“Are we still doing this?” Luke asks, scooting into a more upright position.

Michael shrugs. “Hey, no tongue, okay?”

Luke nods shakily and begins to feel his heart rate speed up. The air that once felt intoxicatingly cold suddenly feels like it’s packing in around them, stifling the atmosphere. Luke turns to face Michael, the two of them sitting cross-legged on the cold cement overlooking the city. For the first time, Luke’s able to make out the features of Michael’s face. Michael’s smiling and Luke probably looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.

“Am I supposed to be this nervous?” Luke finally speaks up in a tinny voice.  They can hear the crowd inside counting down from ten now and he can hardly believe that he was the one who brought up this idea.

“It’s just a kiss,” Michael says, but his tone is wobbly and Luke realizes that Michael’s just as nervous as he is. But he likes that. Luke likes that he still makes Michael anxious, even after two years. Carefully, Luke places his hands on either sides of Michael’s face, thumb gently resting on his jawline, and his stomach drops when he realizes how close they are.

_Five, four, three, two—_

Luke takes a quick deep breath before they lean in to close the gap between them and their lips meet. For just a split second, they can hear the celebration inside as the New Year is welcomed, but everything after that becomes deafened out. It feels like time’s slowed down and they’re the only two people in the world right then. Michael’s lips are chapped and cold against his, and Luke’s stomach drops when he remembers the familiarity of it. 

The kiss ends almost as quickly as it starts and they lean back against the wall. Luke can see Michael twiddling with his thumbs nervously out of the corner of his eye. Everything is hazy at the edges, like it’s a dream. And, to Luke, it kind of is.

“Happy New Year’s,” Michael says awkwardly.

“Yeah,” Luke says blankly. He’s never been much of a romantic.

Luke tries to force back a smile from creeping onto his face because, god, he hasn’t been genuinely happy in over a year and he’s not going to let Michael change that; he’s not going to cave in that easily.

They can hear fireworks go off in the distance, followed by whooping and hollering. They sit like that for a while: the two of them just staring out at the city lights and waiting for something to happen, but nothing does. It’s comforting, Luke realizes after a while. Even if he and Michael will probably never see each other again after tonight, just for the moment, it’s relaxing.

“Well,” Michael finally says, pushing himself off the ground. “It’s getting a bit cold out here, so.”

“No – wait,” Luke blurts out. “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave. Just – can you just sit with me for a while?” Luke internally cringes at how desperate he sounds, but he needs it. He needs Michael. Just for one night. He hasn’t had a friend to sit and talk to in months and, at this point, he’s surprised he hasn’t driven himself over the edge yet.

Michael sits back down because he knows that he can’t do what he did two years ago. He can’t repeat that; he can’t just leave again. He doesn’t want to betray Luke like that again, because he knows that he’ll never forget about it if he does.

“Okay,” Michael says. Luke smiles weakly in response and Michael returns it. He suddenly realizes just how innocent Luke is, and how awful he was for leaving him like he did. If only he had stayed in Sydney to continue his studies, then maybe neither of them would be stuck in this mess.

Michael feels a bit guilty. He’s the older one – he was supposed to protect Luke, not tear him down. Luke was only 16 and he looked up to Michael like he was his world. And then Michael left him. What would you do if your world just left you?

“Can I see your hand?” Michael asks.

Luke looks over at him with confusion and Michael raises his eyebrows, waiting. “Why do you want my hand?” Luke says.

“Because I want to snap your wrist,” Michael states sarcastically. “I don’t know; just give me your hand.”

Luke holds his hand out and, instead of snapping his wrist, Michael links their fingers together. Their hands are cold and stiff, locked with each other’s, and Michael’s not even sure why he’s doing this. Why does he do anything?

Luke stares down at their hands. “What was that for?” he asks.

Michael shakes his head. “I’m sorry for being such a dickbag,” he says. Luke doesn’t say anything.

They sit like that for a while, hand-in-hand, and then Calum starts kicking people out of his apartment, so they figure it’s time for them to part ways as well. There are people passed out all around his apartment and it’s no wonder that Calum’s annoyed. He probably wasn’t expecting it to get so out of hand.

“Wait,” Luke says, right before Michael’s about to leave. He pats down his jeans. “I don’t have any money. Shit, I don’t have a way to get home.”

“That’s fine,” Michael jumps in, absentmindedly reaching a hand out for Luke’s arm. He retracts his arm, realizing how stupid he probably looks. “I can take you home.”

“How do I know you won’t kidnap me?”

“You don’t,” Michael says, pursing his lips together. “Guess that’s just a risk you’ll have to take.”

They weave through the mess of Calum’s apartment – empty beer bottles, broken paper cups, torn up party streamers – and head out to Michael’s car, a beaten-down Hyundai that looks like it can barely hold more than two people without breaking down. Luke sits in the passenger seat and tries not to touch anything because, to be honest, the interior is _gross_. There’s trash everywhere and Luke has to shove an empty paper plate to the floor when he first sits.

Luke tries not to stare at Michael while he’s driving, but his eyes keep landing on him anyway. He watches the way the faded street-lights roll over Michael’s face, changing the color of his hair with each turn, and he really just wants to touch Michael right then, to make sure he’s a real person.

“You know,” Michael speaks up, noticing Luke staring at him, “you could always just sleep over at my hotel. It’s nice, not like this…thing—” Michael gestures to the garbage piling up on the floor of his car “—and this is probably the last time we’ll ever see each other, so.”

“So you _are_ kidnapping me,” Luke says. “God dammit.”

“It’s not kidnapping if you want it to happen.”

Luke swallows nervously. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Kidnap me.” Luke doesn’t mean for it to come out in a kinky way, but it does, and he blushes furiously while Michael laughs. Fortunately, Michael’s eyes are trained on the traffic (or the lack of traffic, really) so he doesn’t notice Luke biting his lip nervously.

Michael’s hair, sticking up in every direction, is a blondish-brown color, and Luke kind of wants to tangle his fingers in it. But he doesn’t say anything. He just smirks in Michael’s direction and hopes he gets the message.

◊

 

Michael’s room is actually pretty clean and well-kept; quite the opposite of his car. But it’s because Michael’s leaving back for Adelaide in a few days, so he doesn’t really have the chance to wreck it, even if he wants to. There’s a queen bed pushed up on one wall and a flat-screen mounted on the opposite wall. Michael has a few duffel bags stashed by the dresser, spilling out clothes onto the carpet.

The weird thing is that Luke isn’t sure what he’s doing. After looking around the room for a few seconds, he focuses his gaze on Michael, who’s standing by the bed, plugging his phone in to charge.

“Hey, whatcha doing?” Luke asks, making his way over. Michael locks his phone and sets it down on the nightstand.

“Checking my phone, why—”

In a swift blur, Luke leans forward and presses their lips together as soon as Michael’s turned around. Everything feels a little washed out and Luke doesn’t know what he’s doing, but Michael’s kissing back and he supposes that’s all that really matters.

“Luke, what the fuck are you—”

Luke pushes Michael down on the bed, shutting him up instantly. No questions allowed, apparently. The kisses are rough and Luke feels like he’s getting high off the taste of Michael’s lips, but it’s exactly what he wants. Just for one night, he wants to do this.

In one quick movement, Michael grabs Luke firmly by the shoulders and flips them over so that he’s the one pinning Luke down against the duvet. Luke lets out a small whimper but makes no effort to push Michael off, because, he likes this.

When a moan escapes Luke’s lips, Michael breaks the kiss suddenly and leans down to his ear.

“These walls are, like, paper thin, so, shut up.”

“Fuck you” is all Luke says before pulling him back in for a kiss again. He makes no effort to quiet down because, to be fucking honest, Luke doesn’t care if the neighbors get mad. He doesn’t care if they hear him moaning Michael’s name – in fact, he _wants them to know_. He wants the whole world to know that he’s fucking Michael Clifford tonight.

The way Luke moans Michael’s name is filthy and dirty and _needy_. Michael presses sloppy kisses all over Luke’s body, from his collarbones down to his hipbones, as if he’s marking his territory, even though it’s only going to last one night. They never went this far in high school, never even considered it.

Michael tries to keep Luke quiet but it’s hard to do when he craves the way he says his name. They take everything slow, trying to stretch out the few hours they have together. And then suddenly it’s over. The night blurs together in one giant flash of touches and obscenities, and then it’s over.

They fall asleep next to each other, holding each other close like that’s the only way they know how to sleep. And even though Michael knows it’s going to be a one-night thing, he secretly wishes it would be more than that. He wants Luke to stay with him.

◊

 

When Michael wakes up the next morning, the spot next to him is empty and cold, meaning that Luke left hours ago. He’s not sure where Luke left or, much less, _how_ he left, but he knows that Luke’s not there. At first it feels like a blow to the chest, and it shouldn’t. Michael knew Luke was going to leave but he never realized how much it was going to hurt until it happens.

Michael feels like he deserves it, though. Like it’s payback. Two years ago he walked out on Luke and now he understands how Luke felt. So instead of whining about it, Michael accepts it. He’s a dickbag and he deserves it. It’s like a slap to the face that he knows he deserves.

Of course, Michael still has Luke’s number in his phone, but it’s been there for as long as they’ve known each other. It’s been years since the last time they texted each other and Michael knows that even if he tries now, Luke probably won’t respond. So he snuggles back into the covers, trying to drown out the world around him, because, yeah, life sucks. 


End file.
